


It's Who She Is

by mldrgrl



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, F/M, Pandemics, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:02:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23883460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mldrgrl/pseuds/mldrgrl
Summary: Post-season 11.  Set during present day and requires some knowledge of previous fic Certain Expectations.
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 18
Kudos: 38





	It's Who She Is

He knows that she’s leaving even if she hasn’t told him. He senses it in the way animals can feel an earthquake before it happens. He can feel it in the desperate, frantic roll of her hips as she moves above him, eyes closed and brows pinched. He can feel it in the half-moon marks of her nails as she presses her fingers into his chest, just above his heart. She’s only been like this twice before; once after her mother’s funeral and once when they were still considered outlaws and for him, the days had bled together into one long day, but he’d happened to glance at a calendar in a gas station one night and realized it was his son’s first birthday.

When she collapses onto his chest, he wraps his arms around her and waits for her breathing to even out and her heartrate to slow. He brushes her hair away from her neck and rubs a circle between her slick shoulder blades with the heel of his hand.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, expecting an ‘I’m fine,’ or a ‘nothing.’ What he gets is silence. “Scully?”

“It isn’t right,” she finally says.

“What isn’t?”

“Sitting idle.”

He sighs.

“Mulder, I’m a doctor and a scientist.”

“And a mother.”

It’s Scully’s turn to sigh. She pushes up off Mulder’s chest and rolls off of him, turning to sit at the side of the bed. He rolls onto his side behind her, snakes an arm around her waist, kisses the back of her hip.

“We’re not FBI anymore,” he says.

“Why should that matter?”

“Because we’re safe here. You, me, Molly. That’s all we need to worry about now.”

“Do you honestly believe that?”

He can’t lie to her or tell her that he’s been feeling useless and unprepared for weeks. He rolls onto his back and covers his face with his arm. She slips from bed, pulls her robe on and ties it closed. When he hears the water running in the sink in the bathroom he gets out of bed and stands in the doorway.

“What do you want to do?” he asks.

She shakes water off her hands and grabs a towel to pat her face dry. When she’s done, she looks at him in the mirror and then lowers her eyes.

“Dana?”

“I’ve been in contact with the CDC. With my experience and expertise, I could be of use.”

“I don’t doubt that. But, how? And...in what way?”

“In a lab.”

“Not in a hospital?”

“No.”

“You would be safe?”

“Mulder.”

“Look, I’m not trying to be selfish here or...Scully, we have a child to think about. That’s all I’m saying.”

“That’s exactly why I need to do this. She deserves a better future than this and I don’t want her to grow up in fear or in isolation. Mulder, I can’t just sit by and watch while this unfolds. Not if I can do something about it.”

He nods his head a little and turns to walk away.

“Mulder.”

“I know you feel you need to do this, Scully, but I’m not going to pretend I feel good about it.”

“If the tables were turned?” She crosses her arms and leans against the sink. “If the threat were alien or the design of a conspiracy of men, Mulder, if this was an X-File, don’t tell me you wouldn’t do everything you could possibly do.”

Frustrated, he rubs the back of his head and shuffles his feet, trying to pace the small space in front of the door. “I don’t know how much more I’m willing to sacrifice.” 

She drops her head and nods into her chest. “Then I suppose that settles it.”

They stand silent and tense. Mulder knows what she needs to do and he knows he needs to let her go and support her, but he can’t help but feel they’ve both paid their dues to the world. He’s waited for the mudacity of a normal life for a long time, the one they’ve lived for the past two years, but of course something would come along to disrupt it. Not aliens, not supersoldiers, not government conspiracies, but a simple, stupid, widespread virus.

“Go save the world, Scully.”

She opens her mouth a little. Her lips move, but she doesn’t say anything. He comes forward towards her and puts his arms around her. She rests her forehead against his chest and then unfolds her arms to place her hands on his hips.

“I’ll hold down the fort here,” he tells her. “Me and The Stinkbug will be just fine.”

“I’m afraid, Mulder.”

“I know. I am too.”

*****

She’s been gone for three weeks and four days. She left on a Thursday and today is a Monday. Mulder has collected each page of his Word-of-the-Day calendar to share with her when she gets back. He can’t wait to challenge her to use the likes of piffle or anoesis or jejune in a sentence.

Some days are better than others. Molly is old enough to miss her mother and too young to explain to her why she isn’t home. They’ve FaceTimed a few times so The Stinkbug could say hi to Mama, but Mulder can see that it’s hard on Scully for a variety of reasons. She’s tired and overwhelmed and it’s hard to be away, even if she knows it’s for a good reason. When he asks about their progress she doesn’t sugarcoat and she doesn’t try to put up an optimistic front. It’s bad and it’s bleak and as the numbers rise, she looks more and more defeated each time he calls. It takes superhuman effort not to beg her to come home.

He’s cleaning up the remnants of a Spaghetti-Os lunch from Molly’s high chair when he hears the car coming down the drive. He throws the sponge in the sink and doesn’t bother to dry his hands before he looks out the window. His chest swells with relief and elation when he sees it’s her car. The cellphone in his back pocket rings before he’s out the door and he answers it just as he steps onto the porch.

“Don’t come down,” she says.

“What?” He can see her waving at him through the windshield.

“Stay on the porch.”

“Why?”

“I probably shouldn’t be here.”

He cocks his head, realizing that she hasn’t shut off the engine. She’s just idling. Not home to stay.

“Where’s Molly?” she asks.

“Stinkbug’s taking a nap.”

“Could you get her?”

“Wake her?”

“Not if you don’t have to.”

“Okay.” He puts the phone down on the porch railing and goes back inside. Something’s wrong and he’s not quite sure what it is. His heart is pounding and not because he’s just bounded up the stairs to Molly’s room. He picks her up gently and cradles her against his shoulder. She stirs a little, but he rubs her back and shushes her quietly and she stays asleep.

He has to move cautiously down the stairs and avoid the creak in the second riser. He cringes a little and makes a mental note to oil the hinges on the screen door as he eases it open. Molly twitches and rubs her face into her father’s neck as he adjusts his hold on her to grab his phone.

“Alright,” he says, quietly. “Now what?”

“I just wanted to see her. And you.”

“Why, Scully?”

She doesn’t answer immediately. He raises his brows at her, watching her watch him. “I’ve had a cough the last few days,” she finally says.

“A cough?”

“Shortness of breath.”

“Scully…”

“I was sent home, but…”

“What’re you saying?”

“I know I can’t be here.”

“Scully...”

“I need to isolate myself right now.”

“Where? How?”

“There’s a quarantine center I’ll go to.”

“No.”

“No?”

“Scully, you’re not leaving. I’ll...I’m not going to let you go through this alone.”

“You need to stay healthy, Mulder. You need to stay here, stay healthy, and take care of Molly.”

“We’ll...we’ll seal off the downstairs room. I won’t let her near it.”

“It doesn’t work that way, Mulder. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Scully…”

“I have to go.”

“No.”

“I love you, Fox. I love you very much. Kiss The Stinkbug for me.”

“Scully!”

Molly jerks in Mulder’s arms and wakes with a cry. It takes him a few moments to realize, from the momentary distraction, that Scully had hung up the call and was already backing down the driveway. He tries to go after her, tries to comfort his child and run down the porch to stop her, but he can’t do both and his daughter takes priority.

“It’s okay,” he croons in Molly’s ear. “It’s okay.”

It’s not okay.

The End


End file.
